


Satisfaction

by obscureshipyard



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Choking, Everybody is Bad at Feelings, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Forced Orgasm, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Relationship, Rough Sex, emotionless sex, or lack there of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:15:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28630125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscureshipyard/pseuds/obscureshipyard
Summary: Brock is on edge and screwing up in the field, putting lives at risk. Jack, his ever faithful second in command is there to pull him back and keep him on the path.A look at what happens when a narcissist and sociopath need to solve a problem, and sex is the solution.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Comments: 12
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to TemptedForTea for beta/editing!
> 
> Thanks to mittagsfrau for inspirational headcanon used to help characterize and build this story!

Shame burned a hole in Brock's gut the entire way to the hotel and up to the room. His teeth ached from how hard he ground them together. Jack stayed silent, as usual, but Brock could tell a storm was brewing.

"Keep losing your cool in the field and someone's going to end up catching a bullet." Jack scolded through gritted teeth as he shed his field gear onto the hotel room floor. Brock slammed the door shut behind them.

SHIELD had at least put them up in decent accommodations for this mission. Although they were pinching pennies by double bunking everyone. Hence why Brock was currently getting this talking to from his SIC in their shared room.

"You think I don't know that?" Brock watched his plans fall to shit, same as the entire team today. It was supposed to be a simple mission to identify a network steeped in guns, drugs, and human trafficking. It wasn’t usually SHIELD’s forte, but with the discovery of alien tech making its way through said network, SHIELD wanted to be involved.

"What's the problem here, Commander?" Jack rounded on him. His fists sat on his waist, glaring at Brock as if he would have an answer.

"Look, just--nothing, ok?" He fucked up. His timing was off. The intel had been solid. They had a visual on a known dealer and good potential in-road to the network. Brock jumped the gun and scared the guy off. He was in the wind before any of the backup team knew and could intercept.

"Westfal was fucking right. You’ve been acting all moody and edgy like this for weeks, and it’s getting worse." Jack ran a hand through his slicked-back hair. "Christ, sir, is this really because you haven't gotten laid?"

Brock felt his face heat. "No! No, it's not--wait, what the fuck has Westfal been saying?"

"When was the last time you fucked somebody?" Jack pointed an accusing finger at Brock’s crotch.

Of all the things Brock was expecting to get shouted at after the fuck up today, this was a suprise. The clincher was that it was likely true. He hadn’t thought his epic dry spell was affecting him during work hours. Thinking about it now, it actually made sense.

"It's… it's been a while, ok? But that doesn't mean--"

"We're going out. We get you laid so things go back to normal." Jack stripped off his shirt, as if he were fully intent on getting ready for a night out.

"We're in the middle of a mission, we can't just _go out_ to get some ass." Despite Brock’s recent fuck ups, he still had his head enough to not put them directly in danger of blowing thier covers.

"Fine, I'll do it." Jack shot back; expression serious.

"Excuse me?" There was no way Jack meant what it sounded like he meant.

"I'll do you. I'll blow you." He took a step towards Brock, hands reaching for Brock's belt.

Brock stepped back, hands shooting down to block. "Rollins, you're out of your damn mind!"

"You need to get off, so your blue balls don't get us all killed. You can't go out to pick someone up, so I'll do it. What's the problem?" Jack’s deadpan expression belied the completely lunacy of his words. He was seriously offering to blow Brock on the spot, like it was nothing.

Thoughts began to race in Brock’s head. Surprisingly, none of those thoughts were him instantly refusing the offer. They were all more along the lines that going through with it would likely be more trouble than it was worth in the end. And where did Jack get off being so calm offering something like this? "Jesus, do you even swing that way?"

"About as much as I swing any way, sir. You're attractive enough, and we've got a problem. This is the solution. I'll do it." Jack didn’t even blink. It sounded so black and white.

"You ever blown a guy before?" Brock couldn’t believe he was actually considering this. But Jack seemed so sure and not at all concerned. _Would it be so terrible?_

"Yes." Brock felt his face go slack with shock. Jack paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Basic was boring. Had to pass the time somehow."

"Ever blown a superior officer?" Brock couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice. He never thought about Jack like that. He never thought of the big six foot two, statuesque, killer at his side as someone who’d be comfortable on his knees, let alone willingly with a dick in his mouth.

There was a weird pull in his gut at the thought. Man, his pipes were definitely backed up if picturing Jack sucking off some faceless man was getting him hot.

"Deployments are also boring. Look, focus here. You're a great leader, but right now you're operating below standard. We could have this problem fixed within the next ten minutes or you can be stubborn and continue risking all of our lives for your pride."

"Ten minutes? You can get me off that fast?" Brock asked curiously. He was considering it, literally thinking about letting Jack blow him. _What the fuck was this day?_

"Maybe less. Give me a chance, and I'll show you." Jack’s gaze suddenly changed from mild irritation to dark hunger. He took another step forward. Brock didn’t step back.

"This is insane." Brock breathed out the words as Jack closed in on him. Jack’s big hands on his hips guided them back until Brock was leaning against the small desk in the far corner of the room.

The lighting was bright and perfect to see the deadly efficient look on Jack’s face as he closed in. Brock didn’t utter a word of protest as Jack made quick work of unstrapping Brock’s vest so all that separated their skin was his thin black t-shirt. _Did it suddenly get warmer in here?_

"Sounds like a 'yes' to me." Jack’s low voice practically hummed in Brock’s ear as he sank down to his knees. Brock was lightheaded while his arms were suddenly made out of lead. He didn’t move to stop Jack as nimble fingers undid his belt and pants.

The air was slightly cool on his skin, but he didn’t notice it for long. The feeling of Jack’s suckling mouth took the breath and thought from his body. Nothing but a groan escaped as Jack took him deeper and deeper, all wet warmth and teasing tongue.

Brock’s eyes rolled back; his head suddenly too heavy to hold up. Thank god for the desk, Brock was sure his knees would buckle without the support. Jack was silent before him, starting slow with his ministrations but working his speed up with every stroke.

 _No gag reflex._ Brock would swear if he had the ability to speak. One hand found its way to the back of Jack’s head, just resting as his head continued to bob back and forth. The other hand moved to pull up his shirt. Brock liked that position. It gave him the best view, and his partner the best view of his body from where they serviced him.

Never in a million years did Brock think it would be Jack he was showing off for, but here they were. Looking down, Brock nearly blew his load at the sight. Jack’s eyes were closed, his expression one of severe focus. His lips were swollen and red, stretched over Brock’s straining cock, glistening in the light.

Jack was a man on a mission, not taking a single pause for breath. Brock felt his body coiling tight. All the tension gathered in every muscle down to the core of him. Jack took him in deep and held him there with gentle sucking pressure as his tongue massaged along the shaft with blistering ecstasy.

Brock flew over the edge into orgasm. Jack was right. It took less than ten minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

The blow jobs stayed fairly regular. Every few days Brock would get antsy, or nervous, or stressed, or just bored. Jack was able to read Brock's moods on some unconscious level. Or he tapped his Commander's phone and hacked his emails. Brock wouldn't put it past the guy.

Between missions Brock went back to the bars, logged back into his favorite hookup sites and apps, but it all seemed more trouble than it was worth. He wasn’t the settle down and get married type, never was and never could be. The years of one-night stands wore on him. You never really knew what you were taking home or going home with.

The casual hookups with Jack were so damn easy. Brock would text him a time to come over. He'd even bring food if asked, anything Brock wanted. He'd come over, suck Brock's soul out through his dick, and that was it. No muss, no fuss. Sometimes he'd stay for dinner or a beer, only if Brock asked.

He never once asked for more, never complained, never made Brock feel bad. It was the perfect deal.

Jack barely raised an eyebrow the first time Brock asked him to add a finger. The blow jobs were nice. Hell, they were amazing, but a little more couldn't hurt, right?

Brock figured if either one of them really had a problem with the whole... _gayness_ of the situation it would have come up already. Plus, the drawback of Brock's mostly one-night stand sexual history was never being with someone long enough to really experiment sexually.

He wasn't the kind of guy to trust easily. Let alone have a strange woman stick her finger inside of him just in case prostate stimulation was everything it was cracked up to be.

And it fucking was. Jack was as methodical finding and stimulating Brock's prostate as he was with all things. He seemed to enjoy making Brock squirm under his fingertips and tongue until he was a semen covered mess collapsed on his own couch.

It got to the point that Brock barely ever masturbated. Why bother? Everything felt better when Jack was doing it to him. Brock figured he'd sprain a wrist trying to get his fingers inside while he stroked off. He was just as happy to sit back and let Jack do all the work.

The first time Jack fucked him Brock came twice. He didn't think it was possible. Jack's skillful blow job had started the evening with Brock exploding down Jack's throat. But instead of recovering and bidding Jack goodnight Brock said it: "I want you to fuck me."

Jack just nodded, got to his feet, and walked to the bedroom. Brock stayed sprawled on the couch, shorts around his ankles and shirtless. He liked to keep it simple when he invited Jack over. Clothes just got in the way.

Jack returned moments later with the bottle of lube and box of condoms from Brock's bedside table. Brock didn't know how Jack had found them but didn't so much care. He went willingly to his knees on the cushions, elbows braced on the back of the couch.

The lube was cold at first but warmed quickly between Jack's fingers and Brock's ass. Brock got hard again. Maybe it was a conditioned response. Jack didn't dare neglect Brock's prostate as he got two fingers, then three, then forced his pinky inside for four.

Brock groaned at the burn of it. He kept his eyes closed and tried not to think too hard. It felt good and he trusted Jack to do right by him.

So when hands came to rest on his waist, when fingers were replaced by a lube and latex covered cock, Brock stayed relaxed and took it. Jack's cock was thick and long. It touched places his fingers couldn't reach.

Brock let out a hiss from the tight stretch. He dug his fingers into the couch and ground his teeth. Jack's hands moved from where they braced Brocks hips to stroke up and down his back. It felt almost gentle.

"You need to relax, Brock. You're tightening up too much." Jack's voice was even and informative. Brock was at the edge of sanity having a dick inside of him for the first time in his life, and Jack was just cool as a cucumber. _Figures._

Those drifting hands moved to Brock's chest and dick. Jack bent over top to cover him and keep Brock's back arched low. One hand stroked Brock's dick, with that extra little twist and squeeze at the end, just like he liked. The other hand pulled and pinched at Brock's nipples until they were red and raised.

He closed his eyes and did his best to sink into it. Jack started to move with small strokes matching the movement of his hand on Brock’s flagging erection. Once Brock could breathe with deep, even breaths again Jack picked up the pace.

The quiet apartment filled with the sound of gasping breath and wet, slapping skin. Brock ignored the feel of tears gathering in his eyes as he gripped the couch and took it. Jack's laser-like attention to Brock's prostate with his thick, merciless cock forced another body shattering orgasm that nearly knocked Brock unconscious.

He lay over the back of the couch, dripping sweat as Jack pounded out his last few thrusts and came hard with a stifled groan. Brock felt the warmth of the condom being filled inside of him. It wasn’t a bad sensation, just… strange.

Jack pulled out slowly. Brock felt sleepy but fought the urge to just pass out on the couch. He heard Jack lumber away to the bathroom and run the water. He sensed him come back into the living room but didn't turn to look at him. The warm washcloth was a bit of a shock but felt nice as Jack cleaned the sticky mess of lube and come from Brock’s thighs and stomach.

They both collapsed onto the couch with heavy sighs. Brock’s body was heavy and relaxed as his brain started to mull over what had just happened between them. Brock just asked to get fucked in the ass, and then was. But it was Jack. Jack, who followed him without question. Who never once looked at him as weaker or lesser despite his neediness.

“Pretty good.” Brock turned his head just slightly to gauge Jack’s reaction. The other man simply nodded, his expression mild and relaxed. Another long moment of silence passed between them. “Want a beer?” Brock offered.

Without a word Jack stood from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Brock finally registered that Jack was naked as he watched his shapely ass disappear around the corner.

Jack had an impressive body, all long limbs and thick muscles. Brock admired Jack with envy before they ever did anything together, now it felt more like a simmer of jealousy. Neither of them ever said a word about exclusivity or devotion. Brock sure as hell wasn’t planning on saying a damn thing.

Jack returned with two open bottles, giving one to Brock. They lay on the couch, a foot of space between them. Brock flipped on the TV and let idle noise fill the room. Halfway through his beer Brock let his eyes wander over the long lines of Jack’s legs, curious if he’d be up for another round.


	3. Chapter 3

From that point on, Brock was willing to lay back and let Jack do whatever he wanted. They even started fucking in Brock’s bed. Not that Brock wasn't still bossing them around in bed, making his demands for how he wanted to get off. But he trusted Jack to know what he was doing to get the job done. In almost every way. Almost.

“Hold me down.” Brock blurted out. He wanted to say it since the moment the other man walked through the door, but it took until Jack was on top of him--already inside--to get the courage up. Truthfully, he’d been thinking about it for days.

It caused some odd daydreams at work. Anytime Jack used his hands for more than a casual gesture, Brock was swamped with thoughts of those big hands gripping him tight, holding him down, leaving punishing bruises.

“What?” Jack's rhythm slowed. A fine sheen of sweat was already gathering across his pale skin. He swept back the hair that had fallen into his eyes and stared down at Brock.

“Hold me down. I like it.” Brock pulled his thighs tighter around Jack's waist, trying to encourage him to keep going. He didn’t want to stop and think. He didn’t want to worry about what it might mean that he wanted this from Jack, that he trusted him enough to do it.

Jack grabbed Brock's wrists and pinned them over his head. “Like this?” He sank back inside, squeezing hard enough on Brock's wrists to border on pain.

“Yeah, you can hold me down by my throat, choke me a little, too. But I still want to breathe.” That stopped Jack dead. He kept his grip on Brock’s wrists but studied his face closely. "It's not weird." Brock snapped.

"I didn't say it was." Jack watched him closely, so closely Brock wanted to squirm.

"If you're not into it you don't have to." He dropped his gaze down, away from those soulless green eyes.

"No, it's hot. I wanna try. Just never thought you'd be up for something like that." Jack moved one hand from Brock's wrists down to his neck. It was so gentle, Brock hated it.

“I’m into it. Keep going.” He ordered. Kicking his heels into Jack's ass got the man moving like a stallion.

Brock’s eyelids drifted closed. Jack pressed his weight into the hold on Brock’s wrists and throat. Brock could still breathe, but it took just a little more force. He tested the hold at his wrists with a slight tug and found he was stuck.

Waves of pleasure picked up at the confirmation he was pinned, trapped. He had to just lay there and take what Jack gave to him.

Brock shuddered and writhed, as a whole new kind of rapture rocked through him. Jack was thorough as usual, hips forcing his thick meat in and out like a fucking machine. Every stroke was right on target to push the blunt head of Jack's cock directly over Brock's prostate.

It was heaven. Brock felt his body relax completely. Moans and gasps started to spill from his throat uncensored. The telltale coil of heat tightened his gut. Jack just kept going, squeezing tight and riding him hard. Brock bucked his hips as the jolts of pleasure became a white out. Brock screamed.

His back bowed off the mattress, but Jack didn’t let up. Brock’s body was shuddering, still wracked from orgasm. When he felt Jack’s hand wrap around his drooling cock Brock wanted to pull away. He was hypersensitive to every stroke, bordering on pain.

But Jack still had him pinned. The hand around his throat was gone but his wrists were still bound over his head. He was too weak from coming to really fight back. His thoughts twisted in a nonsensical mess as Jack continued to fuck him and stroke him. It was too much, he was going to pass out, he was going to explode, he couldn’t take it.

Another scream tore out of him, this one more animal than man. Brock felt every nerve in his body light up until he was flying high on another orgasm, forced, and harsh, and gut wrenching. When Jack released his dick, it was like all his strings were cut. He collapsed as his mind drifted off somewhere deep, and dark, and warm.

Blinking his heavy eyelids open, Brock found himself under the covers of his bed. He was exhausted. The air reeked of sex but taking in a deep breath felt amazing. A stirring to his right brought his attention to Jack. He was curled up on his side, facing Brock, and sleeping soundly.

They’d never done this before--slept quietly curled up together after sex. They weren’t even close to cuddling, but Brock realized it was a line they hadn’t crossed. Of course, he’d never come untouched before either, so it seemed like today was a day of new experiences.

Brock was too tired to freak out about implications that no one but him would care about. No one knew they were doing this together, and Jack would never tell a soul unless Brock ordered him. So, Brock let it slide, and sank back down to sleep.


End file.
